>> ".. It's not really all that different. It all comes from the same place, we just use different implements in order to achieve our visions."

That was some pretty academic speak for a kid. Jack felt her before stitch, her eyes pinching slightly as her mouthparts curled into a smile. Maybe she was some kind of nerd with dyed hair. The kind of kid to use "implements" or "visions" in conversational speech.

>> "What do you use to carve them? There are a lot of fine details."

"Whittling kn-ice," Jack said simply, "Its gotta tiny 'lade so it's easy to get tiny sings in dere."

Maybe easy wasn't a good word. But it was easier to detail with a small blade as opposed to, say, a chainsaw.

She smiled back, reaching out to have the tiny sculptures back. "I like them. You are really good at it." She shifted her bag back up on her shoulder and adjusted her grip on the easel. "There were quite a few carving classes offered at the NYU... but I've never been brave enough to attempt them."

There were actually quite a lot of classes on the subject scattered around the city. When she had looked into taking sculpture she'd stumbled across quite a few of them. "I tend to work better with malleable things. Clay and paints."

She followed along, glancing around, and was once again reminded that she wasn't exactly sure where she had ended up in the school. Even though Jack had found her, Shelby was still effectively lost.

"So...um... would you perhaps be able to point me in the direction of the garden? I was wandering my way there before I kinda got lost, and then... well, you found me." She scratched at the back of her head absently. "I'm ninety seven percent sure that if I wander off again I will end up half way across the school in the attic or something."